BANE
by ZombieDinosaur
Summary: It's been 3 months since Bane was captured by the C.I.A and he now faces a death sentence in 6 days time. In his last days, Bane reveals his origin and his past to one man, Mark Strayler. This is post The Dark Knight Rises, do not read unless you wish to be spoiled.
1. Part 1

**BANE SERIES**

**Part 1**

**We're going to take a 3 week break from Nightwing. In those three weeks, the last 25 chapters will be finalized and all 25 chapters will come out in 12 consecutive days. But, so you don't miss me, I am creating a miniseries called Bane Series. This chronologies Bane's last days. He was injured severely when Catwoman hit him and now here he is 3 months later in his last six days of his life. He will be executed by the U.S. Government for his terrorist crimes. But in those 6 days, Bane reveals to one man his entire life and his plans. This is not an action series. This is a drama. There will be some intense moments from Bane's flashbacks as he tells his origin story. Also, for the Nightwing series. I am creating a petition to get it mass produced as a novel series. The petition is here for you all to sign: **** petitions/warner-bros-pictures-legendary-pictures-dc-comics-and-christopher-nolan-endorse-the-production-of-a-novel-sequel-series-to-the-dark-knight-trilogy ****If you haven't read The Nightwing series, read it here**: ** s/8457074/1/The-Nightwing**

The fire rose as it consumed the masked man. It consumed him as he was shot several feet from where he stood moments before. It burned as the pain began to overtake him. He lied there on the cold floor. Defeated, but alive. The last thing he remembered before being consumed by the darkness were the barrel of several guns pointed at the defeated man. He fell into the darkness.

…

Mark Strayler stood above the unconscious terrorist. He was a young thirty year old man with black hair, athletic build, and a face that told you he was in the CIA. Except he was dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans. He didn't dress the job. The man stirred in the bed in front of him. His eyes slowly opened as he stared at the man looking at him.

"Is it a new day already?" asked the masked man.

"Unfortunately it is," said Strayler. He walked around the small room. It was a room about 20 feet by 20 feet with a sink, toilet, bed, table, and two chairs. No windows, no tv, no nothing. It was a prison cell. Strayler walked over to the table and sat down in one of the chairs. The man in the bed did not get up. "Please join me," said Strayler.

Bane slowly picked himself up, grabbed his tray of food, and sat in the opposite chair of Strayler. The masked man wore his vest, cargo pants, and strange skull-like mask. The government allowed it. They did a full cavity search and made sure there was nothing Bane could do to harm the man in the room with him and there was no way for Bane to escape. Bane reached up behind his mask and pressed a small button, opening the mask. He painfully unwrapped the mask from his face revealing horrible scars around his mouth, right cheek, forehead, and left eye. Strayler saw the scars so many times that it didn't bother him anymore. He watched as the man delicately placed the mask on the table beside his tray. He breathed heavily through his pain.

"Does it hurt a lot?" asked Strayler. Bane looked at him, his piercing eyes looking into Strayler's.

"Sometimes you have to accept pain and defeat in order to live. Once you accept the pain, it will always hurt…but you learn to cope with it, Mr. Strayler," said Bane. He picked up the fork and stuck it into a piece of chicken. He raised it and put it in his mouth, slowly. As if just opening his mouth was painful enough. For three months, Strayler had been watching this man eat and listened to him say things. Bane refused to talk the first month of his captivity. He wouldn't eat with Strayler in the room. The second month Bane didn't reveal anything about himself other than the fact his name was Bane. This was the third month that Bane was being held in a secure prison cell run by the CIA. Strayler fought for the case to understand Bane's mind and understand who he is. Now, with six days left until the CIA pulls the plug on Bane and executes him for his crimes, Strayler wants to find out as much as he can about the man with a complicated past.

Strayler cleared his throat as Bane finished his food. He pushed the tray gently away from him and reapplied his mask. Bane breathed in the vapor that warded off the pain. He pointed at Strayler.

"I'm going to need more soon," said Bane through his mask.

"I'll get two more for you," said Strayler.

"Better than nothing," said Bane pushing the chair back and getting up from the table. He walked over to a blank portion of the wall. "Is it morning or afternoon?"

"Morning, 9:27am to be exact," said Strayler. Bane sighed.

"I know why you're here earlier than usual, Mr. Strayler," said Bane.

"What do you mean?" asked Strayler. Bane turned and faced the man.

"You're always here in the evenings. You never come here before noon. My time has come, hasn't it?" asked Bane.

"You've got a little less than a week left," said Strayler. "I've tried to convince them to give me another month but they want you to pay for your crimes."

"And do you agree?" asked Bane.

"I don't agree with what you did. Holding a city hostage, trying to blow it up using a weapon of mass destruction, killing random people, including the mayor…it's uncivilized," said Strayler.

"Gotham City is uncivilized, Mr. Strayler," said Bane. "I was trying to create order from disorder…civilization from chaos…justice from evil."

"I'm not here to argue, Bane. I'm here to tell you the truth of your actions and why you are going to die in five days," said Strayler. "Is there anything you want to tell me? Anything that you want people to remember?"

"I've left my mark in this world. What I say will only cause pain to the uninitiated," said Bane.

"What initiation is that?" asked Strayler.

"A group of assassins who wish to bring true justice to places who suffer under corruption and deceit. We fight only to preserve justice and intimidate through fear," said Bane.

"You are a member of this group?" asked Strayler.

"I was," said Bane.

"You thought that destroying a city with 10 million people in it was justice?" asked Strayler.

"I still do," said Bane. Strayler looked away from the masked man. He had to get off of this subject.

"How'd you find out about them?" asked Strayler.

"They found me," said Bane. "They seek you out. They stay in the shadows and watch. If they think you are worthy, they confront you and train you."

"Who trained you?" asked Strayler.

"A man who is dead now," said Bane plainly. Strayler wasn't sure how much information he'd get out of this session but it was more than he's gotten in the past.

"Did he have a name?" asked Strayler.

"Yes," said Bane.

"Can you tell me his name?" asked Strayler.

"Why does it matter the name of a dead man, Mr. Strayler? The organization I worked for is gone. Everyone is dead except for me. I'm the last one and I'm about to go as well," said Bane.

"Then…can you tell me what happened to your face? Why do you wear your mask?" asked Strayler.

"You know why I wear the mask. To ward off the pain," said Bane.

"Then at least tell me how you got your pain. Tell me what caused you to have to wear the mask," said Strayler. Bane sat back down at the table. He sighed as he placed his hands, palms down on the metal table that was bolted to the floor. He looked up into Strayler's eyes.

"I'm going to tell you a story, Mr. Strayler. It's a true story. Once upon a time, I was a different man. I was cast into a pit in the earth for stealing land from a farmer. Many suns and moons rose above the pit, it was several years. I watched as others tried to rise from the pit only to fall to their deaths. They got smarter and used a rope. I made enemies in the prison. People despised me. I built myself up to defend against the prisoners. Every day they tried to kill me. They did not succeed. Then one day, a woman was lowered into the pit. She was with child. I never learned her name. Because she would never reveal it. She told me she was married to a great man but she didn't reveal who he was or why she was cast down here. Sometime after, she was killed by the men. Her daughter, who I acted as a father to, rose up and killed the men who killed her mother. Stabbing them in the back. I hid her in a cell and trained her and prepared her for the climb. Many days later, as the prisoners circled the locked cell, Talia and I ran to the wall. I fought off many of the prisoners as I protected the little girl. I helped her up and watched as she climbed up and made it out of the Pit. I was attacked and severely damaged. They came at me with razors and knives. They cut me all over. But they weren't going to kill me. They wanted me to live with my pain. For days I rotted in that prison, not eating, not sleeping, taking only very little water. I was sure that I would die. That's when a man found me. The great man. Talia's father. He took me out of there and I saw Talia again. We trained under her father as we were members of the organization. Then, her father came to me…he said, 'Leave…you are no longer welcome in my presence'. I did just that. Later I learned it was because of what they did to me down in the Pit. It was my scars. My pain. I ventured into the world, not knowing what to do with my skills. Talia left her father to follow me. I told her that I would always love her but I could not let her follow me. I turned my back to her and left her alone…" said Bane. He paused and looked down. Strayler wanted to know more.

"Does this story have an ending?" asked Strayler. Bane looked back up at him.

"It will. It's not a happy one. But in five days…the story will end, Mr. Strayler," stated Bane.

Silence filled the room. Bane's breathing was the only sound.

Strayler hated the man. He really did. He tried to show no emotion. But something about the man's story made him want to free to Bane. He knew he wouldn't and if he did, where would Bane go? In the air? He'd be shot down before he got more than 5 miles away. By boat? Same thing. He could make a run for it. But something told Strayler he was defeated. Bane knew it and he was going to accept his defeat.

**And there you go! A nice introduction to this 6 part series! Each part is another day in which Strayler talks to Bane. The final part will be a sad one. I want this series to show the human side to this terrorist. So, for the next three weeks, you're going to get this short miniseries until I'm ready to give you the final 25 chapters of The Nightwing. Please review, favorite, and follow. This is the only series I will make that will feature Bane. Think of it as The Joker Blogs Bane Version. Now, for those questions from Part 1 of The Nightwing Series. All are by theonlyredhead: **

**Who's your favorite author? **

**Personally, I'm a huge Tolkien fan. But Crichton is up there and Stephen King is another favorite of mine. Can't say, between the three of them if I have a favorite. But my favorite comic book author/creator is Robert Kirkman of The Walking Dead series. I think I cheated that question…oh well! **

**Who's your favorite superhero?**

**Well…Marvel or DC?**

**I'll give you both. For Marvel, I love Iron Man. For DC, Batman obviously! Here are two others from both that are also favorites of mine: Spiderman and Green Arrow. And Superman's pretty cool too. And Wolverine has those claws. And Wonder Woman is pretty hot. And Thor's got that cool hammer….I should probably stop…ok one more…Nightwing!**


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

**Bane Series is underway! Nightwing series is taking a one month break. And I seem to have no life. Oh right…questions…well…should we save them for The Nightwing or use them here? That's a good question…**

The knocking sound on the door made the masked man's eyes open. He pulled the thin covers over his head. The knocking sound continued. The man rose from the bed and locked the wooden door.

"You took your time," said a Tibetan man who desperately was in need of a shower. His slight beard and long black hair was another indication of this man's wealth. He spoke English nonetheless. Bane's face was not covered by his mask, but rather the clothes. He was in a wooden cabin and he looked younger. He had a painted design of a red skull on his clothes that covered his face. Only his eyes and his nose were not covered by the clothes.

"What's your business?" asked Bane.

"An American is looking for you," said the man. Bane was wearing no shirt but his cloth pants were on his body. He picked up an animal skin coat and he turned to look at the man.

"And why should I care?" asked Bane. The man in the doorway never looked into Bane's eyes.

"He says he can offer you something. Something that can make your life a little easier. Something better than drug soaked rags," said the man as Bane began pouring a liquid onto his cloth covered head. He breathed heavily.

"I'll give it thought," said Bane.

"The American gives you an hour," said the man. And with that, he left Bane to his thoughts.

…

The small town was bustling with excitement. Merchants were waiving their merchandise to anyone who passes by. People were running to grab it and give their money. It was a different world. Bane walked through the crowd, and they parted to let the large man through. His face told them exactly who he was. He continued to a small building located not even a mile from where he called home. He entered the small place and discovered it to a bar. Bane wasn't a drinker and he wasn't going to start now. He looked around the room when a man clapped his hands together. Bane turned and saw the man.

"Ah. It's nice to see you again, my friend," said the man. Bane knew this man. At least he thought he did. Faces blur together after a while. He remained silent. "You didn't lose your tongue since our last meeting, did you my friend?"

"No," said Bane.

The man was tall and had a heavy almost Russian accent. He had brown hair, a matching bead, and a skinny, but somewhat athletic build. He was young, in his twenties possibly early thirties.

"You've forgotten who I am?" asked the man.

"You not an American," said Bane. The man smiled and laughed.

"I'm Hugo Strange. Your benefactor. And I am an American. I'm a doctor, remember?" said Strange. Bane remained silent.

"Listen. We can play games all night. But you know why am here?" asked Strange.

"Why are you here?" asked Bane. Strange smiled. He pointed to a table.

"Why don't we sit down and talk. We can be civilized…can't we?" asked Strange. Bane complies and follows Strange.

"Depends on what you call civilized, doesn't it, doctor?" asked Bane. Strange ignored the remark and sat down at the table. The day time atmosphere was something Bane wasn't accustom to. He was more nocturnal than most people. But if this man had something to offer, he'd like to hear it. Strange sat in one of the chairs opposite to Bane as the masked man sat in the chair. Strange, dressed in his full white suit, bright blue tie, and black dress shoes made him stand out amongst the darker skinned men and woman. Strange looked around quickly before returning his gaze to Strange.

"I have powerful friends. Friends that might be able to help you…in your…condition," said Strange pointing to Bane's cloth mask. Bane turned his head, as if he was interested in what this man had to say.

"What do I have to do?" asked Bane.

"I have an enemy. And so does my benefactor. Dr. Thomas Elliot. My benefactor would be more than happy to pay you a large sum of money to see him dead," said Strange as a waitress brought two iced beverages.

"I don't want your money, doctor. I want what you promised me. Something better. Something to help me in my condition. If you create that, I'll kill your man," said Bane.

"And what if I said the technology doesn't exist to build you what you desire?" asked Strange. Bane rose and patted Strange on the shoulder.

"You're a smart man, Dr. Strange. You'll find a way," said Bane. He began to leave when Strange rose from the table and stopped him.

"Please, my friend. We have a prototype that exhumes only a vapor for you to breathe in. Odorless and invisible, it can ease your pain. It's better than the drug you're using. Please. Sit down," said Strange putting a hand on Bane's shoulder. Bane grabbed his hand and began to squeeze.

"You make me a mask and I'll bring you Elliot's head. Meet me back here in 3 days. But, tell me. Where can I find the good doctor?" asked Bane. Strange frantically trying to escape Bane's grip began stammering.

"He's in Cairo. Dealing with some new business arrangement. You'll-you'll need a plane. Ah!" said Strange as Bane released his hand.

"Call yours," said Bane. Strange rubbed his hand but then pulled out his phone.

…

The plane landed on the dirt runway. It slowed to a halt abruptly and Bane, still wearing his red skull cloth mask, stepped out of the plane. Two armed guards watched as the man began walking to the gate that led to the city.

The guards began yelling something in Arabic. Bane knew what they were asking. They were going to question him. He nodded to the guards and grabbed their necks. He tightened his grip and abruptly twisted his hands. The guards fell dead at his feet. He picked up one of their assault rifles as he proceeded into the city.

…

Dr. Thomas Elliot smiled as he sipped the iced beverage. A dark skinned Egyptian man sat across from him.

"Well, Mr. Pinkney. I think we've struck a deal. I can get you plenty of resources. If you bring your ideas to Gotham, we can revolutionize it back to Thomas Wayne's design. We can heal the old scars," said Elliot.

"Mr. Elliot. You're a doctor, not an architect. Pardon my language, but why do you give a shit?" asked Cyrus Pinkney. He starred at him over his round wire rimmed glasses. Elliot smiled.

"Perhaps some people in Gotham look to make the city better," said Elliot.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" asked Cyrus.

"Bruce Wayne plays with his money. He doesn't care about Gotham. No one's seen him in three years," said Elliot.

"And that Batman?" asked Cyrus. "He's doing well for Gotham, right?" Elliot looked away from Pinkney.

"The last sighting of the Batman ended in the death of Harvey Dent, the district attorney," said Elliot. Pinkney.

"God damn…from what you told me…he sounded like a hero," said Pinkney. Elliot decided to change the subject.

"It doesn't matter. Do we have a deal?" asked Elliot. Pinkney nodded. Elliot smiled.

"Good," said Elliot. He took another sip from his drink. He then looked out the window at a strange figure across the street. He saw a man wearing a strange red skull cloth mask and an animal skin coat. He frowned. "Hey, Cyrus…who's that across the street?" Pinkney looked out the window and saw what Elliot was referring to. His eyes widen as he ducked underneath the table.

"Did you look into his eyes?" asked Pinkney.

"What? Cyrus you're being ridiculous," said Elliot.

"Did you look in his eyes?" asked Pinkney.

"Yes…I think so," said Elliot. "I don't understand…who is he?"

Elliot noticed that no one else was in the bar except for four men. Each were pulling up red bandanas over their mouths. They began to pull out handguns, pistols, and shotguns.

"Get down!" yelled Pinkney. Thomas Elliot dived underneath the table as gunfire began to erupt around the bar.

…

Bane watched across the street as the men began to fire at him. He ducked behind a car as he checked the gun. He then got up and fired at the first man. Killing him instantly with four shots. Bane began walking towards the bar. He fired ten shots at the next one, eventually getting a headshot. Then the gun jammed. Bane threw it aside as he began to approach the last two armed men without a weapon. He walked in through the front door, picking up the first guard he killed. He used him as a shield as the two men fired at the mercenary. Shot after shot was fired. Bane walked towards them, who were located near Elliot's table.

"Jesus, Pinkney. What's going on?" asked Elliot.

"He's a mercenary. These guys are criminals. He kills them for some unknown reason. He must have something to settle with them. But he's here for one of us. To kill one of us," said Pinkney. Elliot felt his heart beat faster as adrenaline and fear continued to course through him.

Bane threw the lifeless meat sack at the two other men. He picked up a pistol dropped by the first guard and fired at the third man, killing him. The last man was knocked to the ground by the dead man's body. Bane walked over to the still living man. He pushed the body off the man. He grabbed his leg with both hands.

There was a sickening cracking sound. Almost like the sound of wood splintering and cracking. The man's screams were heard throughout the building. Elliot was a doctor, but he couldn't hear this. He covered his ears. When Bane finished, the man's leg was twisted 180 degrees around. He then stepped on the man's throat, crushing his windpipe.

All four men were dead around him. Bane looked to where Elliot and Pinkney hid.

"Come out, doctor. And bring your friend," said Bane. Elliot and Pinkney slowly crawled out from underneath the wooden table. Bane didn't have a scratch on him.

"What do you want from us?" asked Dr. Elliot.

"I'm here on my own business, doctor. I have to kill one of you," said Bane. "You need to tell me who."

"I'm Dr. Thomas Elliot. I've done nothing to offend you. If its money or medicine you want, I can provide it for you," said Elliot. Bane walked over Elliot and Pinkney. He rested his hand on Elliot's shoulder. He then covered his face.

There was a scream from within the bar once more. A body fell to the ground. Bane removed his hand from Elliot's face. He blinked and looked down.

The lifeless body of Cyrus Pinkney lay at his feet. His face was crushed into a shape that looked barely recognizable.

"I need a chemical. I will return here in a week. And you will mass produce it," said Bane.

"I'm a doctor. I'm not a criminal nor am I a chemist," said Elliot. "I'm a surgeon."

"You have connections, doctor. Find someone who can. Or I will kill you next time," said Bane. The man then left the scene. Leaving Elliot alone in the carnage.

…

Bane sat on his cell bed looking at the wall. Mark Strayler stood in the doorway.

"You gonna talk today?" asked Strayler.

"Is there a point anymore?" asked Bane.

"Yesterday you told me a lot about your past…I'd like to hear more," said Strayler. Bane turned his head and looked at the man.

"Tomorrow…I'll tell you more tomorrow," said Bane. Strayler sighed.

"We don't have many more tomorrows. But…I'm going to keep you to your word. If you don't want to talk to me…then try writing it for me," said Strayler. He walked over to Bane's table where a new tray of food was placed. Strayler placed several sheets of paper and a pencil. "Do you need anything?"

"Silence," said Bane. "That's what I need."

Strayler looked at the ground. He sighed and knocked on the door, a small hatch opened as a man looked in and saw Strayler at the door. The door opened and Strayler left Bane alone. The door closed and it was locked.

Silence embraced Bane. He rose from his bed and walked over to the table. He picked up the paper and the pencil. He moved the pencil quickly as he drew something. It appeared he was just scribbling. He stopped and dropped the pencil. He breathed through his metal skull mask.

The image was the drawling of the bat symbol.

**It's time for your answers to some of your questions!**

**Favorite DC villain? **

**Hmm…I'm kinda torn between Bane and The Riddler. It was really disheartening when I decided to not include Bane in my series. But that's what this series is for. And The Riddler? Well, you should know by now he'll be appearing in the Nightwing series. **

**Something about the most surprising film of the trilogy?**

**I gotta go with The Dark Knight Rises. So many surprises at the end that inspired this fan to continue the story. **

**Top 5 movies?**

**#5- Jaws**

**#4- James Cameron's Avatar**

**#3-Jurassic Park**

**#2-The Dark Knight Rises**

**#1-The Dark Knight!**

**Can't beat The Joker!**


	3. Part 3

**Part 3**

**Wow…it's hard to believe we've already hit the half-way point with this series. I hope you all enjoyed the trailer I gave you for the second half of The Nightwing story. Here's some more news to sink your teeth into. But first…I must ask…do you like zombies Are you a fan of The Walking Dead? Then brace yourself! Because in 5 years time, that's 2018, a spinoff zombie web series will hit YouTube and I'll star and write it. Maybe even direct it. Why not! The series doesn't have a name. It doesn't even have a budget yet…but it does have an idea and a writer and a location. Tri-state area of the US, that's Pennsylvania, New York, and New Jersey. But that's a long time from now. We'll be long done with The Nightwing series by then. But why tell you guys here at ? Because…it's going to appear as a fanfic first. **

Papers were tossed around the room. All of them had some image on them. All were the same image over and over and over again. A scribbled image of a bat. There must've been fifty sheets. Maybe more. They littered the floor. Strayler looked from the sheets of paper to the masked man who stared at Strayler through his mask.

"You want to explain this?" asked Strayler.

"No. You want me to explain this," said Bane pointing at him.

"Is this about what happened in Gotham? With the Batman?" asked Strayler. Bane chuckled.

"It's more than that, Mr. Strayler," said Bane.

"Then why don't you explain that to me?" asked Strayler. "You're obsession…is boarding on insanity. There are some who say you're already insane. But I don't want a repeat of The Joker. You're not escaping your death by pleading insanity. This is not a trial you're facing. The sentence has passed. You're walking on thin ice as it is."

"Funny…that's how I went about jurisdiction when I ran Gotham. A lot of people walked on thin ice and every so often…one fell through," said Bane. Strayler scowled at Bane.

"You killed my brother," Strayler continued. "You've killed a lot of people, Bane. You are labeled as a mercenary for hire. A killer for money…and you still talk justice and jurisdiction. Your organization is as flawed as you are."

"My organization has been dead for eight years. I was excommunicated by them," said Bane.

"And Miranda Tate? You corrupted a wealthy bureaucrat to…what…kill off a city?" questioned Strayler.

"Talia…her name is Talia. She came to Gotham to fulfill her father's destiny," said Bane. He rose from his chair. Barefooted, Bane walked through the sheets of papers over to his bed. Strayler walked over to Bane's bed.

"What are you trying to tell me, Bane? Is this your mark you wish to leave on this earth? A deranged prisoner going mad with guilt? These bats…do they have meaning?" asked Strayler.

"I promised I would talk again…when I was alone in that prison…I was never truly alone. There was darkness in The Pit for many months when the warden covered the light. For five years, we rotted in the darkness. For five years only one thing kept me company…bats. Hundreds of them. I learned that the warden was trying to kill off some of the weaker prisoners. He didn't have the resources or the food to care for us all. So every five years…he'd close The Pit. The strong preyed on the weak. They killed the weaker prisoners and feasted on their kills. Like a lion with its meal…stripping them to bones. I stayed in my cell and feasted on the only thing that I found in there…bats. I killed them and ate them as I sat in the dark. Just one a day. I didn't want to frighten them. I learned to see in the dark. And, after five years, the light blinded me as they lowered Talia's mother into hell. And…if you look hard enough at the bats I've drawn…you'll see that each one tells a different chapter of my story, Mr. Strayler," said Bane. "A bat will always remember hardship and a bat will always return to see the end."

"And what if the bat dies?" asked Strayler.

"Then a new one will rise," said Bane.

…

Strayler closed and locked the door to Bane's cell. He had a look of pure horror on his face. The director was waiting for him outside the cell. He approached Strayler.

"Mark. How are things with public enemy number one?" asked the director.

"Mr. Hastings, with all due respect, can we just kill this bastard already. He's been sitting in there for 3 months. We're not going to get any more out of him in 3 days. He keeps telling me about these folk stories of him in a prison. Some sort of Pit out in the Middle East area and-"

"We've found it," said Hastings. Strayler was stunned by this short sentence. He looked puzzled.

"You what?" asked Strayler.

"We found the Pit. One of our drones was doing a usually patrol over Herat, Afghanistan when a slight updraft took it out of its usual flight patrol and we caught a glimpse of this huge hole in the desert. The government wouldn't allow us any more access and banned the drone from being used around Herat. It was up at 10,000 feet. The picture isn't pretty but I think that's where your friend was talking about," said Hastings as he removed a grainy photo from one of his folders in his arms. He handed it to Strayler. The photo showed the desert and what looked like a dark coffee stain near the top of the photograph. It was a huge hole. Perhaps fifty to eighty feet across. Strayler couldn't tell. He had no size reference to go off of. Whatever it was…the government denied access and existence of such a pit. But perhaps Bane knew about this. A tyrant terrorist, like Bane, doesn't fall so easily without leaving behind a backup plan. And what did he mean about a new bat? Did he expect Batman to die…and if so…what did he mean when a new one will rise. Strayler shook off the questions bouncing in his head and looked at Hastings.

"I want to have another session with him today. We might know more about this Pit and find out if he's planning anything else," said Strayler.

"And what if he is? You think he's just going to come out and say so? I'm saying no, Mark. In fact, I think you're beginning to lose it. You haven't slept in 3 days, you don't leave your office, and you're becoming more violent with your friend in there," said Hastings.

"He's not my friend. Let's see how you react when he goes and kills your brother. My brother was sent in there to save cops not die at his hands," said Strayler.

"He knew the risk, Mark. Don't bring back the dead and the buried. He's toying with you. He's going to try everything in his power to break out of this place. He only has three more days and he's not going to give up without a fight," said Hastings. Strayler sighed.

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. Hastings. The fact that he's been cooperating for the last 3 months proves that he's given up. He lost the battle-"

"But not the war, Mark. A soldier. A terrorist…never stays down until their dead. Regardless, I'm making you take a break. Go home. See the wife and kids. I'll bring you back when he's dead. Carson will take over for you," said Hastings.

"Ted Carson? The guy a nut, sir. He's more obsessed with his firepower than a prisoner. He's more of a hothead than I am," said Strayler.

"He's going to try and see what your prisoner knows," said Hastings. Strayler turns away from Hastings. He begins walking away. But he stops, turns, and addresses Hastings.

"Bane has spent three months watching me and knowing me. He responds to me. You introduce a new guy three days from his execution and that will only lead to disorder and chaos. Carson isn't the right man for this," said Strayler. Hastings smiled, patted Strayler on the shoulder, and nodded.

"Have a nice vacation, Mr. Strayler," he said. Hastings turned and walked away.

…

The jet roared as the man in a cloth with a red skull stepped out. Strange was standing there. He had a look of fear as the masked man approached. Bane spoke first.

"Did you get what I wanted?" asked Bane. Strange whistled for two men to come. They had a large suitcase. Strange took it and handed it to Bane, who opened the case.

The item inside made Bane look up.

"This is it?" he asked.

"This is what we have. It's the only thing we have. It comes apart in the back. It's like putting on a Halloween costume. Or becoming a certain hero. Or villain," said Strange. He closed the lid of the case. "Did you kill Elliot?"

Bane stared at the man. He then pulled out his gun and fired two shots, killing Strange's guards in a matter of seconds. They never saw it coming. Strange seemed unmoved by this act of violence.

"I need him. When I don't, I will kill him. Until then…it's none of your concern," said Bane. He took the suitcase and pulled out the skull-like mask. Complete with metal tubes along the mouth and an air passage way for his nose to breathe. He applied the mask around his head. He allowed the mask to become part of him. It was a symbol. A symbol of fear.

…

Bane's eyes snapped open as a knock was heard at the door. The door opened to reveal a darker skinned man with dark black hair and a matching mustache. He was dressed in a navy blue suit and off white dress shirt. No tie, which Bane found odd. The man was carrying a briefcase. But was very interesting to Bane was that the man wasn't Strayler. He rose from his bed immediately and slowly walked to the table. As if on cue, the man also sat at the table. Bane breathed heavily.

"Good evening, Bane," said the man with a bit of an accent.

"Is it evening? I can never tell," said Bane. The man smiled.

"My name is Theodore Carson. But you can call me Ted. Is Bane short for something?" asked the man.

"Bane is the only name I possess. Whoever I was before no longer exists," said Bane.

"Intriguing. I would like to get right to the point. Tell me, where did you find this man?" asked Carson holding up a photograph of the late Dr. Pavel.

"It's a secret, Mr. Carson. A secret your cousin knew," said Bane. Carson was taken aback by this comment. "Lynns? Garfield Lynns?"

"Yes…he's my cousin. We were very close until he died in a plane crash," said Carson.

"A plane crash that I caused," said Bane. Carson sat there in silence. A grim look on his face. He then smiled.

"I know what you're trying to do and it won't work," said Carson. "Lynns was like a brother to me."

"As to me," said Bane. "And if you want to see him again, you will do everything exactly as I say it."

Carson looked at Bane.

"What are we going to do?" asked Carson.

"Stop a bat from rising," said Bane.

**Sorry for the long wait! The Joker Blogs have taken up a lot of my time. So, here's the halfway point for The Bane Series. And, as promised, another batch of letter hacks to answer. **

**From Vesta Dragon:**

**Would you like the Nightwing Series to be made into a movie or at least into a tv show? **

**Answer: I honestly wish it could be a movie. That would make me very happy. But, to get all the content and all the miniseries included…it would work better as a tv show. It would be a very expensive tv show but one I would watch again and again. Also, a tv show could allow for the shorter miniseries in between the longer seasons. Or maybe the miniseries would be stretched. **

**From Dede42:**

**In a fight between Batman and Captain America, who would win? **

**Answer: Deathfight anyone? Honestly, I think Batman would beat the Cap because Batman has more gadgets. An even better match would be Batman vs. Ironman. In which case, Ironman would win. **


	4. Part 4

**Part 4**

**Since I can't give you a new chapter of Nightwing yet, I'll give you a new chapter of the Bane Series. Let's finish this story shall we?**

Mark Strayler looked at the alarm clock beside his bed. 3:31am. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up. His wife stirred beside him. He rubbed his recently shaved face as he sat on the bed. Mark sighed as he thought back to the last thing Bane said to him.

"A new bat will rise," the man's words echoed through his head.

The cellphone on Mark's nightstand broke the silence as the ringer went off. The series of beeps were quickly silenced as Mark grabbed the phone and began to walk away from the bedroom.

"Mark Strayler," he answered.

"Strayler? It's Hastings. Look, I hate to call your vacation short but we have a problem…I haven't been able to raise Carson. Bane won't talk. He says Carson's not coming back. We didn't find a body. We didn't find anything. It's like he vanished," the voice answered on the other line.

"Jesus Christ," said Strayler.

"We need you back here, Strayler. He's got two days left. Let's get as much as we can out of him," said Hastings.

"I'll be right there," said Strayler. He hung up. He turned to see his wife standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He smiled at her. But she didn't smile back. Mark walked slowly over to the half-naked woman who was covered by the comforter. He long blonde hair reached down to her shoulders.

"Anna…I have to go," said Mark. She looked down in disappointment.

"How long?" asked the woman with disdain.

"What?" Mark asked.

"How long is this going to go on, Mark? You were gone for three days and you're home for five hours and now you're leaving again. You know Michael…he has a baseball game tomorrow night. He wants to practice with you," said the woman. Her blue eyes were fierce as each word stung Mark.

"Honey. We've talked about this before. I'm currently dealing with some serious shit," said Strayler. Anna looked at him and shook her head.

"That's what you said last month and the month before that and for five years, Mark. How long?" Anna said. "Until you learn that your family is more serious than whatever you have going on."

"Anna, baby. Please. Trust me when I say that this will end soon. I'm providing for our family. As soon as this ends…everything will change," said Strayler.

"Just go…go save the world," said Anna. She turned and went back to the bedroom. Strayler watched his wife leave. He wanted to go to her. He went back to the bedroom and saw her curled up in the bed. He looked away from her as he put on his dress shirt and pants. He combed his hair and applied cologne. He left quickly and quietly.

A tear rolled down Anna's cheek.

…

Strayler knocked on the door of Bane's cell.

"Why knock? You're going to enter regardless," said the voice on the other side.

"It's courteous. Perhaps you need lessons?" asked Strayler.

"Perhaps you do too. Isn't there an old proverb about letting sleeping dogs lie?" asked Bane. Strayler said nothing. He opened the cell door and walked into the dark room.

"Where's Carson?" Strayler asked Bane. The man laughed. It was dark in the room, but Strayler wasn't afraid of the dark…and neither was Bane. He liked the dark room more often than the lit one.

"Mr. Carson obviously isn't here. And if he's not here…then I wouldn't know where he is," said Bane.

"You're plotting something," said Strayler. He heard Bane shift in the bed.

"If I was, then it would already have been executed, Mr. Strayler. I've given up," said the mercenary. Strayler turned on the light switch. The room filled with bright white light. It blinded even Strayler for a few seconds as his eyes adjusted.

"Where is he?" Strayler was becoming irritated. He didn't want to play Bane's little game any longer. He reached for his gun. Bane wasn't even looking at Strayler. He was sitting with his legs crossed on the bed, facing the stone wall. But somehow he knew what Strayler was doing.

"Are you really going to shoot me, Mr. Strayler?" asked the masked man.

"Why wait? You're dying tomorrow anyway," said Strayler raising his gun to the back of Bane's skull. Bane smiled under his mask.

"You want to be the hero. You want to be the one that gets to pull the trigger," said Bane. He turned and got up from the bed. He then extended his arms out to his side. Almost as if he were giving in. "Then go ahead…kill me, Mr. Strayler."

His index finger on the trigger he found the masked man's chest. He lined the gun up to his heart. He took aim and…

"No…" said Strayler. He lowered the gun. He was breathing heavily. "No. I'm not going to give in. It's what you want. And somehow…someway…killing you would just end up helping your cause. I'm going to see to it that you remain locked up in here for the rest of your life. You'll die of old age…not from a bullet."

Bane lowered his hands. He sighed.

"Then you've given me no choice, Mr. Strayer," said Bane. He lunged at the man and tore the gun from his hand. He snapped the gun in two. Strayler stumbled back. Completely overtaken by this stunning move. Bane grabbed Strayler and twisted his arm, breaking it at the elbow. Strayler cried out in pain. Bane then gave a good blow to Strayler's head. And the agent fell to the ground.

The last thing Strayler saw before blackness consumed him was a message, written in blood on the stone wall. The red color matched what was being said.

"THE FIRE RISES"

….

Bane watched the man fall into an unconscious state, He then grabbed the key from Strayler's body and began removing Strayler's clothes. He put the suit on and grabbed the key, leaving Strayler naked on the cold cement floor. He nursed his hand which possessed several stab wounds. Bane walked back to his bed and grabbed the blood covered fork. He stabbed the wound again with the instrument and began to write a new message with his blood.

"HOME," the bloody message had said. It was then that Bane ran back to the bed and tore a piece of the white fabric from the thin sheet. He tied it around his wound on the palm of his left hand. He sighed and opened the door. He walked out into the dark hall. He closed the door behind him and locked it.

Bane was free.

**So! It's been a while since I've done anything with this story and I've also decided to extend it. I don't see an ending in sight. I know that I originally decided to make this story only six chapters/parts long…but there's so much I can do with this story now! I can even blur it into The Nightwing series. There's no limit! But I want to first tell this story of Mark Strayler and Bane before I even consider merging this story. Anyway, I honestly don't even know what's going to happen. But I will say this…there will definitely be more than two more chapters. **


	5. Part 5

**Part 5**

**Wow. This story has some dust on it. I am sorry about my TDK trilogy projects. Things have definitely been busy. I am currently working on a horror survival web series that will be coming out this Fall. I have two fics to promote that series that I am writing. But I decided that if I ever have some free time between all of the other stuff…that I'd come back and finish my other projects. I am working on the revised version of The Nightwing and you will have the first chapter before this week is over. The old Nightwing story will be finishing soon as well. But to start it all off…let's find out what Bane is up to. (Also, Joker Blogs is going to be put on hold for a little while…until after I finish this web series. It'll allow Series II to run for a little more before Samuel and I start writing again.)**

Darkness. Strayler's eyes flickered open into darkness. He coughed and felt the pain return. He felt his head. He coughed again as he rose in the dark; grabbing anything he could to help him up.

It was the smoke that brought him back. The smoke that reminded Strayler exactly what happened and where he was. It was then that he also remembered that he was naked. He looked around for anything to wear. He picked up the sheets off Bane's bed and fashioned garments from them. He sighed a sigh of relief that Bane left his underpants. He draped the sheet over himself like a sort of cloak and covered his head and mouth as he went for the door. He coughed again as Strayler stumbled through the darkness. The dried blood sticking his black hair to his face. He continued to cough quietly and approached the door. Strayler reached down and found the door knob.

It was locked. _Of course it is, _Strayler thought. A terrorist's cell in the heart of a CIA prison should be locked. Except the terrorist wasn't inside.

Strayler was trapped and he had no idea exactly where Bane was.

**Three Hours Earlier…**

The door shut behind the masked man as he pulled the small firearm from his side. He was dressed in a suit and tie; a look that not even he was familiar with. Bane carefully surveyed the area.

It was a long corridor. No doors or windows to the side. There was no connection to the surface. Bane walked slowly towards the end of the hall and then unlocked the door with Strayler's badge. The door resounded and slowly opened for him. Surprisingly there was no one there to greet the terrorist. The masked man simply continued walking as he came into the next room. It was a set of corridors; two to be exact. The left one led to Prison Cell Block B and the right led to an area Bane wasn't familiar with. He took a deep breath and went left. The first thing the man noticed was that this cell block had cameras. Or perhaps Bane simply didn't notice the ones from the other corridors. Regardless, Bane blended in. The guards don't sit and watch screens all day. They don't study every single person who walks around the prison. Why would they? This was a federal prison. One of the most guarded prisons in the country.

No one was breaking out alive.

…

Strayler banged on the door again and again as he tried to get someone's attention.

"Hello!" he yelled. There was no response. Just silence. But Strayler could smell the smoke. Something happened to the prison and Strayler was confident that Bane had something to do with it. He then felt something by the door. He grabbed blindly in the dark. He felt the cylindrical, metal object. It was a flashlight. He quickly clicked the button and the room lit up by the glow of the small light. Mark saw that the room was very different. There was a man hanging from a rope. Mark recognized the face. It was the director. Strayler bowed his head and closed his eyes. Almost in a type of prayer. He then rose and walked over to the corpse.

Whoever killed the director had forgotten to take his gun and the key to the cell. It's almost like Bane wanted Strayler to follow him. Mark at least new where Bane was going. Home. Strayler removed the gun and the key to the door from the director. He then removed the noose from the director's neck and placed the corpse on the bed, closing the dead man's eyes. Strayler then went to the door.

In all his time entering the door, he never had to worry about being locked in. But the door was made with a special key. In fact, there were two keys. Bane happened to get both. And Strayler now had the one to leave the room. He was fortunate to have this key and not the other. But as Strayler tried the key, he learned that that wasn't the case. He did have the key to the outside…he was trapped. The light at the end of the tunnel went out and Strayler realized he was stuck. He began pounding on the door and screaming for someone to let him out.

Then Strayler froze. Someone was moving on the other side of the door and they stopped right in front of it.

…

Bane walked through the hall. He tried to keep the gun hidden as he walked into Prison Block B. He burst through the door and noticed a guard who immediately recognized him. Bane drew the small handgun, took aim, and fired at the guard's head. The guard went down before he could draw his own weapon in response. Blood shot out the back of his head and splattered on a nearby wall. Coating it in a red glaze of gore. The masked man knelt down beside the dead guard. He was a young man. He could've gone somewhere. Maybe he could've been the director. But to the masked man, he was simply an obstacle that was easily triumphed. Bane grabbed the keys off the man and the gun. He then continued down the hall. Smiling under his mask.

The cell block had rows of doors along the side of it. And Bane knew exactly which door he was looking for. The door that belonged to a man he long thought dead. A liberator, like himself. But Bane never spoke to the man before. He heard about his marksmanship and his deeds. But this was nearly a decade ago that he knew of this man. That he heard how this man attacked Gotham and Batman. Only to go down in a fist fight. But that was almost a decade ago. Even Bane was a different man then. He was a mere mercenary three years ago. An outcast. Bane approached the door, inserted the key, and pushed the door open. Inside sat an older man. He was facing the wall but Bane saw that this was not the same man.

The man had long grey-black hair. Untidy and unkempt. He wore an orange prison jump suit that the man had colored red somehow. The man wore some sort of eye patch and a red hat.

"What did I do wrong this time? Forgot to floss. Screw you. It's my nap time. I need my beauty sleep," said the man.

"I'm afraid that sleeping is the last thing you'll be doing," Bane said in a grim voice. The man turned and looked at this figure standing in his doorway. He scoffed and turned back to the wall.

"Look, pal. This ain't a hotel. You don't get to check in and out whenever you want. You wanna start a riot? Go ahead. But I'm not that kinda guy anymore. I'm binding my time," said the man.

"Floyd Lawton?" the masked man asked.

"Speaking," said the man. "And now, I'm not speaking. Leave before the guards come and tase your ass. I ain't leaving this bed."

Bane sighed and pulled out the second gun.

"Today is your graduation day, Mr. Lawton. You get to be a liberator once more," said Bane. Floyd turned and faced him. Showing Bane the scars on his face and his eye.

"You don't get it, do you? I'm not going back out there! To just get captured again and thrown back in here. They took my eye before. I ain't some liberator and I don't give a shit who the hell you are!" Floyd yelled. Bane then reached up and unhooked his mask, revealing his scars. His jawbone was exposed. He had severe flesh wounds across his face. Lawton was shocked. "Jesus."

Bane reapplied the mask and threw the gun to Lawton, which he caught.

"It's time for the world to be liberated," said Bane.

…

Strayler held his breath. He cocked the gun and turned the safety off. His rapid breathing showing his anxiety. He held his breath and tapped on the door. He then felt a huge force kick the door. Strayler fell back against the wall. He turned the light off. But in the darkness he could still hear the booming of the door. He raised his gun. Ready to shoot whatever was to come through that door. Another boom sounded.

Strayler thought of his wife. How she would react to hearing news of his demise. She would stay strong, Strayler thought. She would have to. Perhaps he could plead with Bane. Ask that his wife and he could be spared and go off. Leave America. Disappear. That would be the best plan. Leave everything behind.

Another boom brought him back. Strayler closed his eyes as a thin ray of light from the breaking door shone on his face. It wouldn't be long now.

The last kick broke the door down. Strayler opened his eyes, raised his gun, and waited. He looked at the man he was seconds from killing. And his jaw dropped. The man's shadow matched the bat symbol drawn by Bane behind him.

_I…It can't be_, Strayler thought, _it can't be. _

…

The control room sat silent as the two guards talked to themselves about their personal lives. Lawton wasn't listening. He took his hat off, took aim, and fired two shots. The guards' heads exploded. Lawton smiled as he walked into the room. He then walked over to the emergency release switch. There were several controlling each cell block. Lawton began to press each one of them. Lights began to flash and sirens were heard all around the prison. Another guard walked into the control room with his gun at the ready.

"Alright, dumbass, you've had your joyride. Now, let me see those hands," said the guard. Lawton turned and faced the guard. He was an older gentleman. Probably in his late forties to early fifties. He never saw Bane coming. He suddenly dropped his gun as Bane grabbed his neck and tightened his grip. A few seconds later, the guard was dead on the floor.

"Where is the intercom?" asked Bane. Lawton pointed to a microphone connected to the prison's loudspeaker system. "Turn it on." Lawton did so.

Across the prison facility, the masked man's voice rang out. The prisoners looked dazed and confused as the voice began.

"People. That's what you are. You are proud citizens of the United States of America. A country with flawed jurisdiction and in need of liberation. This is a prison. I have sat patiently for three long months. Waiting patiently. And today I am scheduled to die. To be dragged out like a dog and to die like a common prisoner. But I have taken control of my own destiny. And so will you. Today is the day of the world's liberation. No more corrupt bureaucrats or flawed justice and politics. Today is the day that we seize control and rise. The flame is lit…now the fire will rise."

Bane finished and watched the security screens. The prisoners attacked the guards viciously. Some even biting the guards. Bane watched in one video that several prisoners tore one of the guard's head off. Bane turned to Lawton.

"Did you get in touch with our contact?" he asked.

"He will be arriving in five minutes," Lawton said.

"Good, Bane said turning to the door. "Then let's go greet him."

…

Strayler lowered his gun. The figure approached him. The dark making the figure blend in.

"Turn the light back on," said the rusty, grim voice of the figure. Strayler did so. The man turned and walked out the door. Strayler followed. The light showed the figure's black cape and the head with two short spikes on top. Strayler knew who it was. But, he was dead. Or at least that's what Strayler heard.

"How-this isn't possible…you're dead," Strayler said at once. The figure turned.

"Sorry to disappoint," said the figure. "Do you know if anyone else is alive"

"No…I don't even know what happened to the place. One minute I was talking to Bane and the next he takes me out and steals my clothes," said Strayler.

"What did Bane tell you?" the figure asked.

"Well…he's a big fan of yours," said Strayler.

"We'll talk later," said the figure. He turned.

"Wait!" Strayler called out. The figure stopped. "Are you...I mean…this is real. You're really him?"

There was silence for a few seconds.

"I'm Batman," said the figure as he plunged into the darkness.

…

The sunlight blinded the masked man as he opened the door to the outside world again. Lawton was right behind him. Bane saw a helicopter. He knew that this was there contact. The two ran to the chopper. Bane climbed in as it rose into the air. The chopper began to fly far away from the small island. Bane looked around and saw nothing but open sea for miles. He waited and scanned the sky. He turned to Lawton.

"You said five minutes?" Bane asked.

"Give or take," said Lawton. Bane looked back and saw a fighter jet flying low it then fired a missile at the prison. The jet fired another and another. Bane watched as the missiles created huge explosions. "So much for liberation, eh?"

Bane smiled behind his mask.

"For some, liberation is short," said Bane. He sat down and closed the door, listening to the far off explosions of the prison.

**What an explosive comeback, huh? More Bane in a week. I will try to have a chapter done every week. Get ready for Nightwing! **


End file.
